


Keep the Nightmares Out

by raktajinos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Community: stop_drop_howl, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Flash Fic, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Humour, M/M, Panic Attacks, Porn, Stiles is almost 18, Tenderness, Underage - Freeform, condoms!, negotiated consent, safe sex, slight scent marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/pseuds/raktajinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has an anxiety attack and finds himself outside Derek's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep the Nightmares Out

**Author's Note:**

> written for the lj community stop_drop_howl a 24 hour flash fic community. I was given the prompt "keep the nightmares out (give me mouth to mouth)" and had 24 hours to write a smutty fic for it. 
> 
> set after season 3a, nonspecific. No spoilers. Also unbeta'd cause of the time limit.
> 
> edit: edited it to contain condom usage. Safe sex is key! Even for werewolves lol

He’d read enough stuff about anxiety and depression over his life to know exactly what he was experiencing. He knew he was having an anxiety attack and that this ‘flight or fight’ feeling was perfectly natural. Regardless of him knowing it rationally, it still didn’t change the fact that his mind and body were freaking the fuck out and he just wanted it to stop. 

Usually he was pretty good at managing his anxiety attacks; he went through the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him years ago, he did the positive re-enforcement vocalizations, he listening to calming music. Sometimes though, the panic would take more control than he’d like and he’d just need to _get out_. It wasn’t that wherever he was was unpleasant, like tonight he’d been playing video games with Scott, a pretty normal Saturday afternoon activity. Nothing had happened to trigger an attack, which was usually the way. He’d be all normal, life going along fine and then BAM he’d find the anxiety building in his body. It usually started in his stomach, the uneasy feeling of dread that sometimes made him feel nauseous. Then it would follow up his throat and out to his limbs; he’d vomit if he thought it would help. 

This was one of those rare times where he wasn’t good at managing his anxiety. The flight or fight feeling overriding any of his coping techniques. One of the benefits of facing the nemeton together was that Scott got it, he understood when sometimes you just needed to get out. So when Stiles got abruptly up from the floor, throwing his controller down and headed for the door, Scott wasn’t too concerned. He yelled the obligatory, “you okay dude?” to which Stiles replied yes and he was just going for a run. 

A run. Ha. He wasn’t an athlete and his ‘running’ was really just him fulfilling the animalistic need to flee. And so he ran, no where specific at first. Just out. He wasn’t really sure what made him decide to run to Derek’s place; the guy did nothing to calm Stiles’ anxiety - he usually just heightened it, at first with the constant threats to his life and then lately with their ‘were-not-ignoring-the-fact-that-were-attracted-to-each-other-but-were-not-acknowledging-it-either’ relationship. It put Stiles on edge. The werewolf was so hard to read and a few heated make-out sessions did nothing to ease Stiles’ confusion. Sometimes it seemed like he hated him, others….clearly not. 

But he found himself outside Derek’s door regardless, something in his body telling him to be here. He didn’t get a chance to knock before Derek pulled the door open, Stiles standing dumbly in the hallway with his fist raised. Stupid werewolf hearing. 

“Stiles?” he asked, his usual deadpan expression on his face. 

Stiles said nothing, just stood there breathing deeply from both the run and his anxiety. He didn’t know why he was here, he had nothing to say. It must have played on his face because Derek’s face changed, concern creasing his features. 

“Stiles?” he said once more, this time his voice a hint higher with worry. “What’s wrong?”  
Stiles pushed past him into the apartment - recently redone since all the flooding and death, it was nice now, Stiles’ had convinced him to get curtains. He started pacing a bit, the urge to just keep moving pulsing through him. 

Derek came close to him, _too close_ , Stiles thought and placed a large hand around the back of Stiles’ neck the other over his heart. 

“Stiles,” he said, calmer this time and he pulled him closer into his body. 

Stiles relaxed slightly against Derek, taking comfort in the strength that his body offered. Maybe that’s what Stiles was after - the strength, the safety, the protection. He didn’t know when he started thinking of Derek as ‘safety’ but he didn’t care enough right then to question it. Anxiety and depression was something he couldn’t fight, it wasn’t a beastie in the darkness that could be defeated with weapons or magic, it was something that had to be dealt with slowly, with time and internally. 

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, hugging him, allowing himself to think that Derek could protect him. All he wanted was to be protected from it, to feel safe. Rationally he knew Derek couldn’t fight it, it was all Stiles’ fight. But he like the illusion none the less. 

Derek pulled him closer and moved the hand from his chest to rub up and down Stiles’ back, trying to sooth him. They just stood there, Stiles’ face buried in Derek’s neck, breathing in his calmness, willing himself to calm down. 

“Anxiety attack?” he asked after a while. He made no move to move, which Stiles’ was grateful for. 

“Yeah. Bad one,” he replied, shifting in Derek’s arms. He was starting to calm down, his body no longer in the heightened panic state it was earlier, but he was still anxious, uncomfortable in his own skin. He was calm enough to realize they’d been standing like this for at least 15 minutes. It should be awkward, but it oddly wasn’t. This was something couples did, they weren’t a couple. But Derek just stood there holding him, offering him whatever support he could. And Stiles was grateful. 

Stiles pulled away slightly from Derek, embarrassed and a bit ashamed of what he’d just done. “Sorry,” he said quietly. 

Derek loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “It’s okay,” he said “better?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, knowing full well Derek could hear his heart beat, could hear how erratically it was still beating and know Stiles _wasn’t_ okay. Anxiety had an ebb and flow to it, for as quick as it could rise in a person it took forever to leave the system. 

“Stiles…” Derek said slowly. 

Stiles flicked his eyes up from the floor to Derek’s face and shrugged, embarrassment and anxiety made for an interesting mix. “So, that piano always been in that corner?” he joked, desperately trying to change the topic. 

Derek tightened the hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, and pulled him closer until their faces were barely an inch apart. He closed the last of the gap and placed his lips gently against Stiles’. It took him by surprise, but Stiles recovered and pushed his lips back, opening them slightly. He expected Derek to do what he normally did, push his tongue inside and plunder his mouth. But he didn’t, the kiss was gentle, kind, a kiss of support of genuine caring. _Of love_ Stiles thought to himself, then immediately chastised himself. Not love. 

All the kisses Derek had given him had always been heated, a bit rough and full of passion. Stiles loved it. He loved feeling the animal Derek had within him, the one that kissed him like he was starving. They were kisses that definitely could have lead to more interesting places had they not been always interrupted. 

This kiss was not like those and Stiles was more surprised than anything that Derek could be tender. It opened up all sorts of new fantasies for him; he’d been running high on the aggressive Derek, the one he wanted to just take him up against a wall and claim him. But this new Derek, the tender one, he could get behind that too; one that would _make love_ to him. 

Stiles pushed his hands up Derek’s chest and gripped his hands into the material of his shirt. They just stood there kissing and it was nice. They finally had to break away for breath, and Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s chin. 

“Actually better this time?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a nervous laugh. He _was_ calmer now, Derek would hear that in his heartbeat, most of the anxiety now dissipated. Stiles was left feeling both physically spent from the ordeal and slightly buzzing with the leftover energy. 

They stood that way for a few moments before Stiles became aware of how close to Derek he was standing, and how his hands were still wrapped in his shirt. He did something both stupid and bold then, he lifted his head and looked at Derek. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked.

“I think I did most of the kissing,” Derek said and Stiles took that as a ‘no’ and started to move away, but Derek wouldn’t let him. “I didn’t say no you moron,” he added. 

Stiles smiled, “so that’s a yes…..”

Derek just rolled his eyes and closed the distance between them, capturing Stiles’ lips in a kiss….again being the one to do the kiss-starting. The kiss started off gentle but then quickly moved to the type of kiss Stiles’ was familiar with; heated and powerful. He unwrapped his fingers from Derek’s shirt, preferring to push them underneath the flimsy material and feel skin. He ran his nails down Derek’s stomach which earned him a small growl, pushing his fingers slightly beneath the band of his pants. 

Derek broke the kiss and attacked Stiles’ neck, his scruff marking up the pale skin while Derek suckled a piece of his skin in his mouth. He’d have marks later, but Stiles’ didn’t care. The last time he and Derek made out, he’d had to wear a scarf for three days. He moaned when Derek licked the marked skin, using his tongue as a lave. 

He undid the button to Derek’s pants and pushed his hand inside, his fingers tentatively wrapping around Derek’s semi-hard cock. They’d never gone this far before, again, they’d always been interrupted before Stiles’ could get to touch anything interesting. He’d felt it, pressed against his hip, but they’d never gotten to the part without clothes. It felt good in his hand, heavy and thick. Stiles might be a virgin, but he’d done enough googling to know where he wanted Derek to put that. 

Derek actually growled when Stiles grabbed him, emboldening him to squeeze a little bit and push his hand down the shaft, feeling him harden in his hand. Derek pushed him then, the extra little bit of distance so that Stiles’ back was against the door - they hadn’t gotten too far into the room before Stiles’ attacked him with hug-arms. Stiles grinned at the movement, at feeling Derek pressed up fully against him, the weight of him pressing in around him. This was the side of Derek he was excited to see, that fire and aggressiveness channeled into him ravaging Stiles. 

“Stiles,” Derek said with a warning tone. His hands were on either side of Stiles’ head, bracing him against the door. 

“Derek,” he said back pleasantly, feigning ignorance, if not for the breathless tone he would have pulled it off. 

Derek was silent for a moment, an array of emotions playing across his features. Stiles’ hand was still in Derek’s pants, momentarily stilled from the push against the door. At Derek’s pause, Stiles pushed his hand, slowly pumping him to full hardness. 

“I’m not going to fuck you up against a door,” he said finally, making Stiles’ cock twitch. He was already fully hard in his pants and he willed himself to calm down, didn’t want to blow this thing before...well, getting blown. 

“So you do want to then?” he asked somewhat stupidly. He’d be very wrong about these things in the past. 

Derek just gave him an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look at which Stiles grinned. 

“Doors are good. I like doors,” 

Derek rolled his eyes and moved in to kiss Stiles, his hands going to Stiles’ pants, pushing them down his hips enough to get access to his dick, grabbing it with a rough, but surprisingly gentle hand. He moved his hand in a slight twisting pattern while his tongue mimicked his hand gestures in Stiles’ mouth. It was the hottest thing Stiles’ had ever experienced and he almost came from that alone. 

Derek pulled away, both his mouth and his hand, causing Stiles to moan at the loss of contact. 

Stiles tried to recover some dignity, even though he was standing with his pants down. “Well, where would you _like_ to fuck me then?” he asked. 

A smirk was on Derek’s face, he leaned in, pulling Stiles’ arms above his head and put his mouth at Stiles’ ear, nipping at the lobe. “Everywhere,” he whispered. “I want to do you everywhere, have your scent all over my apartment…..” 

“Oh, we can do that,” Stiles whimpered.

“But right now, I want to have you spread open on my bed,” Derek said, pushing his hips into Stiles, the harshness of the jean fabric rubbing against Stiles’ exposed cock. 

“Yes, yes lets do that,” Stiles said breathlessly. 

Derek let his arms go and started pulling him towards the bedroom. Stiles couldn’t believe it was about to happen. He was about to have sex. With _Derek Hale_. Mr Angry Hotness himself. Stiles had been fantasizing about this moment for years, pretty much from the moment he met Derek. Okay, well maybe not the moment...but shortly after. For years he never thought it was even in the realm of possibility, for one Derek always seemed to date women - mass murdering women and Stiles was neither of those. Then he figured that even if Derek was open-minded, sexually, than there was no way he’d be attracted to Stiles. Scott maybe, Issac for sure - pretty boys. He’d contented himself with the fantasy. Until a few weeks ago when Derek had kissed him out of the blue. Then he told himself it was a fluke, an impulse. But then it happened again...and again. Lots of Derek kisses.

And here he was now, being pulled into Derek’s bedroom, his clothing being stripped off him. Derek pulled Stiles’ shirt off, throwing it randomly behind him and then went for his pants. Stiles tried, unsuccessfully, to take his shoes off without looking like a spazz, but instead of laughing at him, Derek only moved to pull his pants off. Now Stiles was completely naked and Derek was still clothed.  
“You need to be naked,” Stiles pouted, pushing Derek’s shirt up his chest, Derek tossing it while Stiles worked at the remaining clasps on his pants. 

Derek smiled and stepped out of the jeans, _comando of course_ Stiles thought, and pulled him in for a kiss, pushing him down on the bed as he went. Stiles spread his thighs around Derek’s hips, bringing his knees up to cradle Derek against his body, making Derek moan. 

“God Stiles,” he moaned, breaking the kiss. 

It was Stiles’ turn to go for Derek’s throat, biting less-than-lightly. Derek ground his hips into Stiles, their dicks rubbing against each other. The sensation was intense and Stiles’ focused on his breathing, he wanted this to last. 

Derek got up suddenly and walked over to the nightstand, leaving Stiles spread naked on the bed. Stiles should have felt self conscious….but he wasn’t. And the way Derek looked at him, his eyes clouded over, a hooded look on his face, Stiles felt sexy for the first time in his life. Desired. 

He came back to the bed with a condom and a tube of lube in his hands, “you’re beautiful.”

Stiles blushed. He let his eyes scan slowly over Derek’s body, appreciation on his face. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

Derek climbed back on the bed, kneeling between Stiles’ legs, tearing open the little package. "Can I?" Stiles asked hesitantly, his eyes dropping to the condom. Derek smiled and handed over the plastic ring. Stiles took it and rolled it tentatively down Derek's hardness, a bit shy and not graceful, but not lacking complete prior experience. Stiles grinned proudly when he was finished, giving Derek a ridiculous little pat as if he'd just put on a bandaid instead of a condom. Derek smiled and he rubbed his hands up Stiles’ thighs, hands close to where he wanted him to touch him. “Derek,” he moaned. Derek just grinned, lowering his face to Stiles’ chest, kissing a path down towards his groin. Stiles threw his head back when Derek finally wrapped his mouth around Stiles’ hard cock, his lips just lightly around the tip, his tongue swirling over the precome that had seeped out. He then opened his lips and took all of Stiles’ in his mouth, his tongue pressing against the underside. The suction was almost too much and Stiles pulled at Derek’s hair, “Derek. Derek. Stop,” he moaned. 

Derek stopped immediately and his mouth popped off with a wet smack. “What’s wrong,” he asked, concern on his face. 

“Nothing,” Stiles smiled, “just...I’m close. And I’d to…..come with you…. with you inside me,” he said awkwardly. It was weird to be saying these things and he wasn’t sure if he was saying it right. Worried he’d repulse Derek. It was apparently the right words because Derek growled - something Stiles had started to take as a good sign for whenever it was in relation to sexy-times. 

Derek pushed a hand in Stiles’ hair and pulled a little bit, kissing him roughly. 

“The right thing to say?” Stiles hedged.

“Yes,” was the gruff response he got. Derek sat back on his heels and reached for the tube of lube, squirting some on his fingers. He moved his hands towards Stiles’ opening, pausing before he touched him. 

“You sure? We can wait, we don’t have to do this now,” Derek said. 

Stiles’ heart did a little jump, shocked for the second time that night at how tender and caring Derek could be. He knew then he was in trouble; he was getting too attached. 

“Derek,” he started, raising himself on his elbows, emboldened by his caring, “I want you. I want this. Badly. Completely. So please, for the love of god, _fuck me_ ” he said, his voice dropping at the end. 

The indecision left Derek’s face at his words and he rubbed a finger around Stiles’ entrance, teasing him before pushing a finger inside. Stiles had practiced enough on himself to be comfortable with this, even though Derek’s fingers were bigger than his own. At the insertion of a second finger, his breath hitched and his body pushed back, trying to reject the penetration. 

“Do you know the first time I wanted you?” Derek asked suddenly. 

Stiles lifted his head to look at him. He knew it was a distraction, to calm him down, but he was curious. “No, when?”

“I was in the back of your father’s police car,” 

“-when he arrested you for murder?”

“Yes. You climbed in the front and started asking all these questions. You were so pushy and inquisitive. It was annoying,” he said, scissoring his fingers to spread Stiles.

“I have that effect,” Stiles said back, airly. “But seriously, that turned you on?”

As if in response, Derek pushed a third finger in. 

“Wanted to shove my cock in your mouth to shut you up, you smelled so good,” he said, voice low. 

“Well you have permission to do that anytime from here-on-in,” 

“God, I just gave you incentive to talk more didn’t I,” Derek said. 

Stiles just grinned, then moaned as the three fingers started moving, pumping him open. 

“I was like...16,” he said, the realization hitting him. 

“That’s why I waited.”

“...until I was 17 and a half?” 

“Well, that’s a long time,” Derek said evasively, a tinge of guilt in his voice. 

“In dog years maybe,” he teased. His first dog joke of the night, he was doing well. 

Derek didn’t answer, instead he pulled his fingers from Stiles. He felt empty at the loss. Stiles watched as Derek squeezed a bit of lube on his dick, slicking it up and giving it a quick pump. Stiles made a mental note to get Derek to jack off for him sometime in the future; it was wicked hot. 

His eyes were drawn to the actual dick in question. In his hands earlier, Derek’s dick didn’t feel that big, but now with the reality of where he was going to put it, it looked huge. It wasn’t going to fit, that’s all there was to it. The panic must have shown on his face because Derek stilled. 

“Stiles, it’ll be fine. We’ll go slow,” 

“It won’t fit,” he said ridiculously. _Why’d he say that_

Derek chuckled, actually chuckled, “well I’m flattered, but it’s going to be fine.”

He repositioned himself between Stiles’ thighs, lining his cock up with his entrance, the tip pushing against him. Stiles instinctively spread his legs further and bent his knees, giving Derek better access. 

“Ready?”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically, a bit of the fear still there, but more excited than anything else. Derek started pushing slowly, the tip of his dick meeting resistance, but finally pushing through. Derek pushed a little more, a bit more of him going deeper in Stiles. 

“You okay?” he asked, care on his face. 

“Ya. It’s weird. But a good weird,” Stiles said back honestly. “Come on, more,” he added, flicking his hips. 

Derek pushed further in, slowly until he was all the way in. It hurt, being stretched that wide, the foreign feel of having Derek inside him. Derek paused to let him adjust. Slowly the pain started to recede and pleasure began to take over. 

“Oh,” he said quietly when he felt his body shift, the nervousness from before gone and replaced with anticipation. 

“Good?”

“Yup, let’s go!” he practically cheered. 

Derek smiled - another new thing Stiles learned about Derek this evening, he could smile. He pulled almost fully out of Stiles, only the tip remaining. Before he had a chance to process the empty feeling, Derek was pushing back into him, faster this time. He repeated it, pulling out and pistoning back into him, hitting his prostate in the most agonizingly pleasant way. He needed more.

“Harder,” Stiles ordered. 

Derek compiled, his hips snapping roughly as he pumped himself in and out of Stiles’ welcoming body. The pleasure was amazing, with just a hint of pain on the edges. Stiles dragged his nails down Derek’s back, leaving harsh red lines in their wake. The action only seemed to spur Derek on more, his growl growing louder. 

He leaned over and captured Stiles’ lips in a messy kiss, lips dragging down his throat as his hips snapped against his ass. Stiles was close, so close. Derek’s head fell to his shoulder and he started saying things, Stiles catching only a few words. 

“Mine,” he heard Derek say.

“Yes. Yours” he moaned back, barely aware of what he was saying, his hand reaching down to wrap around his dick. The dirty talk apparently did something for him because he came without barely having to touch himself, a loud moan escaping him. He came in long white streaks, landing on himself and across Derek’s chest. If he hadn’t already come, the image of his own cum spread on Derek would have done it. 

Derek was still pistoning in and out of him, his action jumpy and without rhythm. On instinct, Stiles turned his head, offering his neck to Derek; an animalistic act of submission. Derek came with a loud roar, biting down lightly on Stiles’ neck - enough to leave another mark, but not enough to break the skin.

Derek collapsed on top of him, spent. The weight of him felt good and Stiles wrapped his arms around him, his knees pulling in tightly. It felt incredibly sexy, to have this much _man_ between his legs, exhausted because of him, and also incredibly intimate - which didn’t freak him out as much as he expected it to. 

They laid that way for a while until Derek came back to himself and rolled them over so he was laying next to Stiles, causing him to slip out of Stiles’ body, Stiles mourning the loss. 

“Sorry, I’m heavy,” he said gently. 

“I didn’t mind. You smell nice,” Stiles said. He didn’t mind, he wanted Derek back there right away, wanted to wrap himself around the man and never let go. And he did smell good, really good; like cedar. 

“You have no idea how good you smell,” Derek replied, his hand drawing lazy circles on his stomach. 

“Ya?”

“It’s a werewolf thing….people we’re attracted to smell….different,”

“A good different?”

“No, a repulsive different,” Derek said mockingly. “Of course a good different. It’s … intoxicating.”

“What do I smell like?” Stiles asked. 

Derek paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know. It’s just...unique and I know it’s for me,” he said quietly. “Does that freak you out?”

Stiles thought for a moment, “no. Like my own Eau d’Stiles.” 

“How do you feel?” Derek inquired. 

“Great actually! Should do that everytime I have an anxiety attack. Much more effective than my breathing techniques.” 

“Good. And well ya….that’d be okay...if you wanted,” Derek replied shyly. Another thing Stiles learned; Derek could be shy. 

“You just invite me to come jump your bones whenever I’m feeling anxious?”

“Yes,”

“I’m likely to tire you out.”

“Preternatural stamina. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to need to test that.”

“Feel free.”

“Y’know, you could market that: Derek Hale’s Sure Proof Anxiety Attack Cure. Could make millions,” Stiles joked. 

Derek just snorted in reply. 

“Or maybe it’s just Stiles-sized….?” he hedged, the deeper meaning not lost on either of them. 

Derek tilted his head to look at him, placing a kiss on his lips. “Stiles sized.”


End file.
